Twisted Memory
by PrincessVictory
Summary: Misty joins the band as the newest low brass player. Too bad she had to run into Ash. The boy with the Pikachu. The only one that can put together the pieces of her broken past. The only one that will, anyway.


**A/N: Another one-shot! I know you're probably tired of all the Pokeshipping, but I just can't help myself! XD This one's a bit different, but that just means no one can duplicate it :D Anyways, enjoy the story, and R & R if you would!**

She couldn't believe she'd decided to follow through with it. She never in her right mind would've made such a decision. May's devious words had wrapped an invisible web around her, and she'd fallen inexplicably into the trap. For nearly four years they'd asked her, and she'd always said the same thing: "I'll think about it." May had struck a bet with her this time, a bet impossible to refuse.

And it had cost her everything. "If Dawn loses the Grand Festival to Zoey you have to join the Marching Band at school for a year. If she wins, I promise not to mention it ever again." And of course, Dawn had to lose at the last minute. So here she was, showing up a day late for Band Camp, expecting the absolute worst.

What she least expected, however, was to fall in love. But expectations are quickly exceeded, as she would soon find out. "Ready for your first day, Misty?" May asked, stepping out of the little red Jeep.

"Are you sure about this?" Her feet felt like lead as she hit the concrete and shut the door behind her.

"Sure I'm sure! Don't doubt the genius here!" May exclaimed, grabbing her by the hand and pulling her along.

"More like the criminal mastermind," Misty mumbled just out of earshot.

"What was that?" May wondered as they walked through the double doors.

"Oh, nothing," she replied, averting her gaze to the floor.

"Mhmm. Oh look, it's Ash! Oh, Misty, you'll just love to meet him! He plays most anything, but prefers the trombone normally. That and the sax."

But she'd lost Misty after she said his name. Ash. She'd heard of him, even met him once, but never had she actually spoken to him before. The boy with the Pikachu. And here he was, looking directly at her!

His chocolate-y eyes seemed to melt, and he smelled of fresh Oran Berries. Spiky black hair tousled just perfectly by the wind, and a mischievous grin that seemed to invite death itself onto the battlefield. She'd heard of the many hearts he'd broken, and she refused to let hers be the next. Even if it meant avoiding him at all costs. "Misty? You play an instrument?"

No, never picked up one before in her entire life. Instead of telling him though, she shrugged her shoulders. "This'll be her first year," May answered, pulling her toward the band director's office. But she wouldn't budge.

She couldn't even trust herself to breathe when he was nose to nose with her. "Come on, Misty! Save the gawking and the googly eyes for later! We don't have all day!" Embarrassed, she slipped away quietly, not totally trusting herself to speak.

"See you around then," he waved, sighing as she went. He knew he'd be seeing her again quite soon.

"So what instrument will I be playing?" Misty asked, glancing from her friend May to the director, Mr. Oak.

"Hm, well, May's on the flute, but there's plenty of those, or I'd consider putting you there so she'd be your section leader. Brass is pretty easy to learn, but we have more than enough trumpets." He looked her over, as if trying to figure out which instrument would suit her best.

"Have you considered low brass?" _Wait, isn't Ash…?_

"Yes, Ash's section. And if anybody can teach a rookie the ropes, it would be him. I suppose that'll work. Do you mind that suggestion, Misty?"

"Uh, no sir," she lied. She'd seriously been intent on avoiding that kid, but that's very well impossible now that he's her new "teacher." With her luck, it kind of figured.

"Trombone it is, then," he clapped, handing her a shiny new mouthpiece. "Buzz this, will you?" It took her forever it seemed, but finally she figured it out. "Splendid! May, be a Deerling and hunt down the other trombone, please."

"On it, Mr. Oak! Want me to send Ash in here to you?"

"If you don't mind," he answered, and out ran Misty's closest friend. After waiting a few minutes, Ash appeared, holding his trombone in his right hand.

"May said to tell you she can't find the other trombone. You needed me, Mr. Oak?"

"Great. Well I suppose you could borrow Ash's today during Marching Fundamentals. Would that be alright, Misty?" She nodded reluctantly.

"Oh, so she's being place in my section?" Ash asked quickly.

"Afraid so, Ash. Think you can handle her?"

"Well, I'll, uh, certainly try," he mumbled, scratching his head obliviously. Misty face-palmed. "Here, take my instrument and I'll teach you the basics out on the practice field." Handing her the trombone, he began to walk out. She followed closely behind. What a wonderful first day it had become.

After hours of learning how to stand at attention, forward march and backward march, they regretfully informed her that the other trombone was gone and she was stuck with what they called a baritone. Basically, a gigantic trumpet. As if those weren't heavy enough. Thankfully, it didn't seem impossible to play, like the trombone had. Sadly, Ash had no experience with one, so it took forever to teach her how to play the open note, a C.

That didn't stop Misty though. She was determined to know her instrument better than anyone before her. But lunch couldn't have come any sooner, as far as Ash and May were concerned. Delia had packed a lunch fit for a Snorlax, and May brought enough for her and Misty to share. "Could I sit here?" Ash asked, plopping down beside Misty.

"Uh…"

"Course you can!" Misty gave May a baleful glance. Just because he was her section leader didn't mean he could magically waltz into her life and expect friendship. Knowing herself as well as she did, she knew any attachment to this kid would only lead to deeper feelings. Feelings he was oblivious about, and she wanted it to stay that way.

She'd rather not have her heart broken again. The strangeness of it all is that she couldn't remember who her last heartbreak was from. She knew she was a forgetful person, but one doesn't typically forget a heartbreaker. Yet she couldn't remember him. Her memory simply had become too fuzzy.

Ever since the accident, anyway. She'd had to fill the holes in her mind based on what people told her. But they'd never given her a name. It didn't occur to her how much closer he'd gotten until she felt his arm brush lightly against hers. She jerked away involuntarily, her skin tingling from the sudden thought of how warm he was.

May glared at him, for reasons unbeknownst to Misty. She figured that maybe something was going on between them at first, but quickly threw the thought away when she caught the bass drummer Drew handing May yet another thornless red rose. That was the second one in a row. Misty scratched her head in confusion. Why wouldn't May tell her what the heck was going on?!

And why did it feel so familiar to have Ash sitting so close? It felt so comfortable, so right, and it got on Misty's nerves! All at once it seemed to fall into place. The last piece to the jigsaw puzzle of her past memories. He was her last heartbreak.

"Oh no," she whispered. "God, no. Why him?" Everything fell to a pin drop silence, save for her getting up to walk away. "I, uh, think, I need some fresh air," she lied, heading for the door.

Ash seemed to realize instantly what it was. "No, Misty! Please let me explain!" The comment caught her off guard, but that didn't stop her from running out the door with every ounce of pride she had left. "Misty, don't do this!"

_Do what?_ "You think I'm about to leave or something, Ash? You know I should. I should just walk out the door right now and never, ever show my face here again! Why, Ash? Why would my best friend keep such a secret from me like this?! The accident was nearly a year ago! She's had more than enough time to tell me you were my first heartbreak!"

"That's what this is all about?! Gah, I knew she should've told you," he answered, face-palming. "But nobody ever listens to the 'oblivious' trombone player. Obviously."

"Told me what?" she asked, hurt by his insensitivity toward the whole thing.

"Misty, I'm not who you think I am."

"What?! Of course you are! Why else would I feel this way? Gah, never mind! I give up." She threw her hands up, offering total surrender to the one person she least wanted to give it up to. Or most.

She wasn't quite sure anymore. "Wait, what way?" The question hung there awkwardly, and she refused to answer anything unless and until he answered her first.

"Who _are_ you, Ash?" Heartbreaker or not, he had to have been pretty important in her past for her to feel as close and vulnerable to him as she did.

"I…was your best friend before the Rapidash incident. Gary, my rival, he was the one that broke your heart, not me. I'd never hurt you, Misty. You really don't remember?" She shook her head, at a total loss for words. How could she forget her best friend?

Who does something so horrible? No, he was lying. He had to be. She'd never forget her best friend like that. Right? Besides, May would've at least mentioned him, wouldn't she? If he really was her best friend, he would've told her from the start.

But he didn't. No one did. Why? "I—"

"You know, you looked so beautiful that day. Your hair cascaded down your back in little ringlets. A strapless dress every shade of the sunset. Tiny glass slippers that glimmered gold in the light. And a little golden Cascade Badge hairpin in your hair. You were so happy, so carefree on that day. Becoming Homecoming Queen meant the entire world to you, and I was so glad you'd won it. I congratulated you with an unexpected kiss. The kiss that ruined everything, and the reason Gary broke up with you right before the parade started. You tried so hard not to cry, letting your anger show instead. Slapping me one good time across the face, you'd said, 'You had to ruin it, didn't you? My one shot at love, and you took it away. Don't ever—"

"Speak to me again," Misty finished, feeling tears springing into her eyes. She remembered. She finally remembered. But remembering stung worse than anything else she'd ever experienced. She hugged him tight, finally realizing why he wouldn't let anyone tell her who he really was. Because she never wanted to speak to him again. "I'm so sorry, Ash. So sorry for everything."

"Misty, don't. I should've told you. But I felt like I would ruin your second chance if I did."

"No, Ash. You'd never be able to ruin my life. Not as badly as I have." They stood there silently, holding each other as the tears freely flowed.

"You know, watching you fall off that Rapidash was probably the toughest of it all? I could almost hear your head cracking right from where I was standing. I possibly could've helped, but I was paralyzed with fear. Fear that you weren't going to make it. The only thing worse than death itself would be losing you. You were my best friend, and hopefully you always will—"

But he couldn't give it a second thought before her lips met his lightly. She felt a jolt course through her. What a shock she'd been given! And it felt so real, so right. That's when she realized she was in love. Had been for a long time, actually. With a person she felt she'd known longer than time itself.

"I love you," she breathed, saying words she should've spoken years ago.

"I love you too, Mist," he replied, kissing her on the forehead. That's when they heard the whistle blow. Band Camp was back in session. And Misty couldn't have been happier.


End file.
